You Caught Me

WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE I REPEAT I HAVE A POTTY MOUTH

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"Olivia, you're going to Alaska."

"What!?" I look back and forth between my parents, both looking at me with serious, unflinching demeanor's.

Oh no. It's actually happening.

"You're going to-"

"I know what you said!" I snap, causing them to flinch.

"We've given you several chances Olivia. Nothing we have done has worked," my father continues. "We just can't handle your disobedience anymore. Your mother is pregnant and she does not need the added stress. So maybe living with your sister for a while will help you understand-"

"Understand what Dad?" I interrupt once again.  "How is shipping me hundreds of miles away gonna help me?" At this point my temper has reached its peak and I can no longer contain my anger. My mom stays quiet next to him, absentmindedly rubbing her stomach and looking down, avoiding any and all eye contact whatsoever.

"We want the best for you Angel," he says, trying to remain calm and collected. My heart melts when he uses the nickname he gave me every since I was a kid. But only for a split second.

"No, you're trying to get rid of me like you do with all of your problems, "I reply, tears streaming down my face. I wipe them away angrily. I hate letting people get to me, but I absolutely hate it when people see me cry. It's a sign of weakness and I cannot afford to be weak anymore.

He stays quiet.

That's all it takes for me to realize.

They had been planning this for a while - I could tell by the determination in my dad's expression - and there is nothing I can do to change their minds.

I will admit, for the past two years I have put my parents through hell. Staying out late, partying, and all around losing any concern I had for the people I care about has been my routine. But I never imagines them giving up on me. Maybe sending me to a therapist or something, but not this.

"Are you even going to say anything?" I ask incredulously, looking over at my mother who has remained silent throughout this whole ordeal.

"I agree with your Father," is all she says, looking down at her hands still rubbing her stomach. She does this whenever she's nervous, anxious, or both. Ever since she got pregnant she's made it her mission to create as much distance between me and her as possible. She's made it perfectly clear- she doesn't trust me around her with the baby.

Doesn't bother me much- I hate children with a passion.

"You're a coward. You both are," I say, getting up heatedly from the couch. "I hate you," I say to them with so much conviction, it even causes me to flinch.

I don't regret it though.

For the past couple of years my life has been on a downward spiral. But instead of helping me, my parents decided it was better to ignore me, so I did everything I could to get their attention, get them to see that I was hurting, badly, and I needed them to be there for me. So I started drinking, smoking pot, and getting into a few fist fights here and there.

Now they want to ship me off to the middle of nowhere with my sister, whom I haven't spoken to in years, just so I'm out of their hair. So they can have their little perfect life with the new addition to our family, without me to ruin it.

And just like that, my heart was broken.

"Olivia, Dad's on the phone," I hear Madison yell from downstairs.